Son of the Dragon
by Universe Creator
Summary: One night changed everything. One choice was made, for better or for worse. Now, Arthur must learn the struggles and joys of fatherhood. A Brother or Son AU!
1. A Miracle's Divide

Disclaimer: Merlin isn't mine.

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><p>"How dare he?! that <em>insolent <em>brat!" Uther Pendragon roared as he stormed into his chambers, his loyal friend and the trusted court physician close behind him.

"The situation is certainly not ideal, my lord." Gaius said, following the king with his eyes as the younger man paced to put a wear in the floor.

"_Ideal_?! My thirteen-year-old son is a father and set beyond reasoning! I refuse to have a _bastard _one day rule my court!"

"Perhaps this is the right choice for the boy, Uther, I—"

"He does not know what he's doing, Gaius! He is _a child_!"

Gaius doesn't flinch. Meeting the king's gaze firmly standing tall, and speaking in his practiced, patient tone. "It will teach him invaluable lessons of responsibility and setting an example for leadership, not to mention improve his temperament and patience. The child could teach him to adapt to situations of sleep-deprivation, and let's not forget that he would be a constant reminder to the prince to keep his act in shape henceforth."

Uther approaches, glaring daggers as his nostrils flare. "I want that _thing _out of my kingdom, Gaius. He will do nothing but bring shame upon the Pendragon dynasty forevermore. Make sure he is gone."

"Sire, I—"

"Am I clear?" Uther growls.

A long, tense silence ensues as Gaius looks at the ground, debating within himself before he asks quietly. "You would have me kill the boy, my lord?"

"I must ensure that Arthur's mistake will not come back to haunt him…For this one occasion, I will allow you to use magic. It is better if he never knows of this."

Gaius feels his stomach plummet through the floor. He looks to Uther, searching his eyes for any speck of humanity as he says his next words. "But the child is not one of magic; it is not against the law for him to live."

"It is a sin in the eyes of God!" The king roars, face going red.

"_He _is your grandson, Uther."

"Do you mean to defy me, Gaius?"

The elderly physician and sorcerer decided to answer a question with another question. "Do you think killing him will erase the sin of his creation? Sin cannot cleanse sin. Even if it could, the boy himself is not sinful; no one can help the circumstances for which they are born."

"I am _king—_"

"If such a thing were true…you would have your son dead for murder."

Cold, stone-cold silence and icy tension fill the room as one man stares the other down, each with anger in their eyes. The difference; one of bitter disappointment, the other of cold murder.

"Get out." Uther hisses, quiet as a snake.

Gaius only offers a respectful bow before he exits, leaving the king to reflect on his words.

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><p>As the court physician pushes open the young prince's chamber door with a large load of supplies under his arm, he's greeted with a most…strangely humorous sight.<p>

"Gaius…what do I do?" Arthur asks helplessly, gesturing with his eyes to the innocent he holds in his hands at arms-length.

Gaius simply quirks an eyebrow, his lips twitching briefly as he briskly marches into the younger Pendragon's room. "What are you doing, my lord?"

"I, uh, wanted…to hold him, but I…I'm…stuck."

Now, Gaius allows an actual, if small, smile. _He may not know what he is doing, but the boy's heart is in the right place. How can Uther not see that which is so very clear?_

Out loud, he lets loose a noncommittal hum. "An easy problem to remedy, I assure you, my liege. First, allow me to provide a visual demonstration." The elderly physician holds out his arms for the boy.

Arthur carefully hands the baby over, paying very close attention to how Gaius cradles the child, supporting his neck and bottom. Gaius then goes over different ways of holding him, and demonstrates each one.

"Now, Sire, I want you to try the cradle-hold first."

Arthur takes the boy with trembling arms, carefully positioning himself so he holds the little body just as he had seen Gaius do. He stares down into his son's eyes with a disbelieving, happy smile.

"I'm…actually doing it…I-I did it, I mean."

"Yes, young prince," Gaius raises a hand, firmly patting the shoulder of the young man before him. His old eyes take in the sight of the happy grin, the lit eyes of the excited-father-to-be prince, and he lets his hand fall, the tingling of his magic fading from it. "You did. I am…proud of you."

Arthur's face melts in confusion as he looks to the grandfatherly-figure of his life, cheeks tinged with a light pink. "Err, thank you, Gaius…" He quickly averts his gaze back to the sleeping face of his son, a small smile blooming as he begins to lightly bounce him in his arms. "So, what's next?"

Gaius arches an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"Well," Arthur swallows, with his voice cracking nervously as his blush deepens. "There's a lot to childcare, isn't there?"

Gaius lets out a laugh at that, quickly fighting to compose his chuckling to speak. "A lot? My dear boy, there is more to a child's rearing than you could imagine, especially for infants such as your son." Arthur's face falls, his eyes widening in panic, and Gaius adds, perhaps with the hint of a mischievous smile. "Although, luckily for him, you will know how to treat his illnesses and injuries with how often you have been 'assisting' me these past few months."

"What—I…I mean, I…err…" Arthur opens and closes his mouth as he tries to save his dignity, his ears burning red, and Gaius only smiles at his quiet victory.

"Not to worry, sire. It is only natural you wished to assume some responsibility pertaining to the pregnancy; no father wishes to feel completely useless to their child, I assure you."

"R-Right," Arthur stutters his agreement with a nod before saying, with more backbone, "Exactly, in fact."

"Yes," Gaius acquiesces once more before unburdening his load on the prince's bed. "Now, with that said, let us begin."

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><p>Arthur stifles a yawn as he holds his son and sits down in the chair at his room's breakfast table, the infant now wide awake and starring back at him with his big brown eyes shining of curiosity. It had taken hours for Arthur to pass every inch of Gaius's 'parental-training', but he'd be damned if he hadn't.<p>

Bathing, diapering, swaddling, holding, feeding (without a wet nurse or nanny), clothing, calming, burping, and how to distinguish the meaning of one cry from another, or how to find the cause of crying through process of elimination if you are unable to do that.

Who knew that there was so much to do for just one, tiny person on a day to day basis? Regardless, it was now one in the morning, and only one of them was ready for bed.

"Arthur?"

The prince looked up at the sound of his doors opening, eyebrows arching when he sees who it is. "Morgana, what are you doing here?"

The twelve-year-old king's ward snorts. "Why, I'm here to see my surrogate-nephew and godson, of course. I may as well anyhow, seeing as I cannot sleep."

Arthur's face scrunches in confusion and worry. "If you cannot sleep, you ought to ask Gaius for a stronger draft…and godson? Surrogate-nephew is understandable, but godson?"

"Oh honestly, Arthur," Morgana rolls her eyes and moves a lock of hair behind her ear. "Who else do you expect to take care of him should you die unmarried? You do realize you are to be a knight within but a few months, don't you?"

Arthur blinks, open-mouthed. "I…hadn't thought of that." He quickly shakes his head and clears his throat, looking at his sister of all but blood in the eyes as he feels stupidity and embarrassment mixed in his chest for not the first time that night. "Thank you, Morgana. I…am very grateful."

"You're welcome." Morgana extends her hands, making a grabbing motion with a knowing, anticipatory grin.

Arthur sighs and relinquishes his son to her. "In that case, I hope your generosity does extend to babysitting."

"Of course." She answers haughtily before her face and heart melt at the sight of the little face looking up at her from within a bundle of blankets, her hips swaying as she half-dances with and half-rocks the babe. "Oh, look at you, so precious~. I assume you also have not given a thought as to his name, have you?"

Arthur shoots her a glare before getting up and going to his desk. "For your information, I indeed have." He returns with a centimeter-thick scroll, which he unfurls before her eyes. "I simply cannot decide.

Morgana's eyes widen as her eyes skim the sheet of many a crossed off name. "My, I must say I'm impressed; I didn't think you would put this much thought into it."

Instead of swelling with pride, Arthur growls, offended. "Of course I did. A name is with someone for life, and they are only one of the extremely important decisions a parent has to make, thank you very much!"

Morgana merely hums, her eyes alighting on the six remaining choices. "You even got their meanings…Let's see; Allard meaning 'noble and brave', Audrey meaning 'noble strength', Audric meaning 'wise ruler', Raymond meaning 'wise protector', Bedivere meaning 'knightly', and Galahad meaning 'pure' or 'noble and selfless' I take it you were trying to convey your hopes for his rule?"

"Yes, exactly…I tried not to have too many names starting with A, though…I…don't want people to compare us."

"Well then, that leaves Raymond, Bedivere, and Galahad." Morgana's eyebrows furrow in thought and she diverts her gaze to the babe, smiling brightly when she realizes he's fallen asleep in her arms. She quickly strides to the crib, moved strategically by Arthur's bed but still at a safe distance from the hearth to provide warmth, and looks at him within it. "I don't think Bedivere is the correct choice." She finally says.

"Why not?" Arthur demands, crossing his arms. "A knight is chivalrous, noble and bold, God-fearing, brave, and strong. That is exactly the kind of man I want my son to be."

"Maybe so," Morgana answers. "But he will be a king before a knight and that is what you will want people to respect and envision him as, someone who commands knights, not who is the embodiment of one. How can he be expected to rule over those who are of his level? That is all I'm saying."

Arthur gives it some thought, nodding solemnly after a moment. "I suppose… It comes down to Raymond or Galahad, then."

The two look at each other for a moment, and then move to look at something else, Morgana at the baby, Arthur at the table as he moves to sit again. After a long moment, Morgana's soft-spoken voice breaks the silence. "I…think Galahad to be the best choice."

Arthur looks up at her from where his intertwined fingers cradle his chin, elbows on his knees. "How so?"

"Well, Morgana turns to him, moving away from the crib. "For one, it sounds better, don't you think?" Her voice drops low in the imitation of a man's voice as she acts like a herald. His Majesty; Prince Galahad Pendragon." She smiles as she hears Arthur unable to suppress his soft laughter "Or, His Majesty; Prince Raymond Pendragon."

Arthur grimaces. "When you say the full title, I suppose it does sound better…but what's your second reason?"

"Ah, so you caught that." The king's ward winks playfully. "Well, in all honesty, I think the meaning better suits him, as both a person and a ruler. Tell me; how do you think the people will view him when they learn of his birth?"

"I think that they will love him." Arthur answers immediately.

Morgana quirks a skeptic eyebrow. "Really now, Arthur, be a bit more reasonable, would you?"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" The prince shoots back.

"The people will love the child of their hardly-of-age, obviously unmarred prince?"

Arthur's eyes narrow as the meaning of her rhetorical questions sink in. "You think that they will see Father's side."

It wasn't a question, but Morgana sadly nodded. "It can't be helped, Arthur. Perhaps if you were older…"

"But he didn't do anything!" Arthur bellows, standing from his chair so quickly that it tumbles back.

The noise wakes the newborn in his crib and Arthur mutters a curse, banging a fist on the table hard enough to slightly splinter the wood.

Morgana, green eyes wide, quickly goes to the child and begins trying to calm him and his father in the same breath. "You and I know that, Arthur, but I'm afraid a majority will see it differently."

"The blame should be with me, not my son! You cannot control the circumstances of your birth; don't the people know that? Sinful or not, his conception does not make him who he is!" Arthur continues to shout, beginning to pace after kicking his strewn over chair.

"Exactly!" Morgana raises her voice to be heard over the shrill cries of the newborn in her arms. "That is why Galahad is befitting; a reminder to the people that he is who he is, not what he is. Arthur, you know what you're getting into, don't you? What both you and he will have to go through to prove his worth to the people?"

"But he shouldn't need to—!"

"Of course he does, even you have something to prove to your future-subjects, he will just have a harder time of it."

Arthur is quiet, white-knuckled, clenched fists shaking at his sides as, bit by bit, the waves of anger die off of him and his tension-coiled muscles relax. Morgana eventually calms the crying babe, but untold minutes then pass in silence while she works on putting him to sleep, and it isn't until he is laid back down that Arthur finds it in himself to speak again, his voice barely a whisper.

"Galahad it is, then…Galahad Drake Pendragon."

Morgana raises an eyebrow. "Drake?"

"It means 'trademark of the dragon'." Arthur explains with a sigh. "I thought, since our surname means 'chief dragon', it would be appropriate…you know, make him feel more within the family."

Morgana smiles. "It suits him." Arthur nods his thanks, but Morgana's brow furrows as a thought strikes her. "Pray tell, Arthur…what would you have done had he been born a daughter?"

Arthur chuckles. "Don't worry, Morgana; I am not so narrow-minded to have ruled out the possibility as most noblemen are…" He trails off, his neck reddening, before clearing his throat with a cough. "If I ever bear a daughter, her name will be Elmina Rosalie Pendragon."

"The 'noble rose' of the Pendragon family, hmm? Well…it seems there can be more depth to you than I thought, my dear Arthur."

The blonde rolls his eyes. "Ha-ha, Morgana." He raises a hand to stifle a sudden yawn and Morgana chuckles.

"Well, then, I will leave you and my godson in peace. Enjoy what rest you can, Arthur."

With that, perhaps forewarning bidding of farewell, Morgana leaves the prince's chambers. Arthur stares after her until the door closes, shakes his head, but decides to follow her advice after he looks to his son and counts his blessings Morgana has given her consent as a babysitter.

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><p>AN: Well, here it is! Honestly, I'm not that surprised this one won the poll. Anyway, let me guys know what you think.


	2. Sleepless in the Castle

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin!

**A/N:** I want the first ten or so chapters to be more snippets than anything, glimpses of Arthur's life with his son as they both grow-up. Don't worry; it is all plot-related. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

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><p>Arthur groaned as he forced his legs to carry him through the halls, uselessly scrubbing at his eyes to try and rid them of the dark rings that bruised them. Leon had just pulled him aside from his archery training to tell him that his father had ordered an audience with him, but all Arthur could focus on was getting the mounting tasks before him that seemed to never be finished. Training, taking care of his horse, studying, sorting through whatever documents floated his way from his newly-earned seat on the king's council; his head and body were one continuous ache from work, and it was <em>never done<em>!

And then, there was his son.

Galahad was a 24-hour-long energy consumption, constantly needing attention. Certainly, Morgana had kept true to her promise of being available for babysitting, and he also had Maggie, the wet nurse that had been found within a day of the youngest Pendragon's birth and a peasant-woman currently five months along with her first child, but Arthur still tried his damndest to be with his son whenever possible, taking care of Galahad himself. Lord knew the servants couldn't be trusted to come within a mile of his boy; they'd probably be so stupid as to somehow lose the infant. Still, no matter how much he loved his son, Arthur would not lie by saying that he was far from easy to handle, and each day he only grew more tired.

Worst of all, it had only been two months and four days since the unofficial prince's birth, and his father feared he may be slipping into exhaustion-fueled-madness.

"Ah, Arthur," Uther looks up with a smile from where he lounged on his throne, the room otherwise empty.

The prince gave his father a stiff nod, his tone as flat as the old man's smile. "You wanted to see me, my lord?"

Uther opens his mouth, but pauses, his eyebrows furrowing. "Arthur, you look tired…Is everything alright?"

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "Fine, my lord; I have simply been hitting the books a bit later than I ought to is all, but I make sure to get plenty of rest."

Uther's voice was warm with sincerity, tender, and Arthur knew very well that it was a staged act. Things had never fully recovered between them after the night of Galahad's birth. In fact, they had worsened, and Uther took any opportunity he could get at every turn to 'persuade' the prince that he was in over his head, namely by getting him to verbally admit that his son was a burden on him.

Uther's smile slipped, thinning as his eyes lost some of their concern, his voice becoming placid. "Good, I'm happy that you are taking your duties so seriously, my son. I feel that is all the more reason I made the right decision."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, his frown deepening. "Decision, Sire?"

"You are to take the test."

_Test? _Arthur thought, working to keep his face blank as his empty mind worked to come up with its own explanation; he really didn't do well on so little sleep. _What t— …Oh._

An icy lump of fear formed in Arthur's stomach as warning bells began going off in his head, Morgana's words from months prior coming back to him.

_You will be a knight in only a few months._

He'd forgotten that he was old enough to become one; that he really was fourteen years old within a matter of weeks. It was funny how many things could slip your mind when you're a new father.

"Something wrong, Arthur?" Uther's once again flat tone snaps the younger man from his thoughts, and Arthur quickly shakes his head, trying to clear it.

"No, my lord, not at all…Thank you for this immense…honor and privilege." He mumbled as his thoughts turned elsewhere, solely focused on one thing.

_Galahad…_

The icy fear crawled up his stomach, and he convulsively swallowed. Nodding respectfully once more, the prince did not bother waiting for a proper dismissal. He needed to find his son, thoughts of an early grave dancing in his head.

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><p>Morgana was playing with her godson in the sitting room of the west wing of the castle. Galahad, being still so young, slept a great deal of the day away, but in lapses of wakefulness, Morgana enjoyed interacting with him. And she knew—denial or not on his part—that Arthur was the same. She could attest to this fact by the countless number of times she would walk in to visit during his studying hours, where she would find Arthur playfully letting his son bat the feather of his quill-pen, several sheets before him as they both reclined on his large, silken-laid bed, or the numerous times he could be seen walking Galahad about the castle in a makeshift sling.<p>

Needless to say, Morgana was pleased with how ship-shape Arthur's act had become, more than half-expecting him to simply let a nurse do most of the raising and let the boy laze away in his cradle for the rest of it. Then again, Arthur had been full of surprises, for near a year now.

She had just finished stretching out her little charge's legs (Gaius said this and a few other exercises would help him build muscle), playfully tickling him every now and again, when Arthur burst in, pale as a sheet and relief flooding his features as soon as he spotted them. Without a word, the prince walked to them and swiftly stole her playmate from the safe little nest of pillows she had constructed.

"Excuse me!" She cried, only for her indignant glare to melt away when she saw the way Arthur was cradling Galahad to his chest, gently running his fingers through the fine patch of wheat-colored locks on his tiny head and deeply inhaling his scent, obviously trying to calm. "Arthur, whatever is the matter? You look as if you've seen a ghost!"

"I may as well have." The prince muttered as he began pacing with his son, a small, rueful smile on his face. "Uther says I am to take the test of knighthood."

Morgana arched her eyebrows at this. "And?"

"And?" Arthur repeated, turning to her with a baffled glare. "What if I die on a patrol or during a tournament, Morgana? Not to mention that this could give Father ample more opportunities to try and take Galahad from me."

Morgana's heart dropped into her stomach, the raven-haired beauty quickly trying to mask her guilt with reasonability for the prince's sake. "Arthur, if he were planning on stealing Galahad, do you think he would have allowed you to bring a wet nurse into the castle, right next to your room? Besides, do you truly doubt yourself so severely?"

"Well, no, but…"

"Then you needn't be so paranoid. Whether Uther likes it or not, Galahad is here to stay. He also would not risk the hope of his kingdom's future, his only son, if he did not believe you were ready for the trials of being a knight."

"I…suppose so." He blows out a steadying breath. "But what if—?"

"You'll just have to train harder, Arthur." She interrupts with a coy smirk. "Don't worry; I'm sure Maggie, Gwen, and I can handle little Galley when you need it…Speaking of, you look like the walking dead. So, why don't you give me back my godson and go get some proper sleep."

Arthur groans. "Morgana…"

"Oh, don't be such a ninny. Hand him over. It won't kill you."

"But you've had him all day."

"And I will take him the rest of the day."

"I feel like you are raising him more than I am, sometimes."

This earns him an earnestly amused smile. "That is not true, and you know it. You spend at least four hours a day with him. That doesn't include the entire night, mind you, when you and Margret have to be up with him for feedings and changing."

"But—"

"Arthur," The one word is filled with a dangerous, foreboding calm. The prince merely sighs, bestowing his son with a lingering kiss in his hair and holding him for just a moment more before handing him over as though he was physically in pain by the action. Morgana rolls her eyes. "Thank you. Now go."

Mumbling a sullen goodbye, the prince does as he's told.

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><p>Swordplay, knife-throwing, archery, maces, jousting, riding, everything Arthur did, he released every bit of his pent up anger and frustration. His father, pleased with his dedication, announced that he would be knighted just after his birthday. Since he'd been admitted to the council already, once he was knighted, his studies would be over. Neither of these things mattered in the slightest to him.<p>

What mattered to him was that it had been a week, exactly seven days, and he'd seen his son a total of twenty-one hours in that time. Three hours a day, what kind of a father was he? Between Morgana, Gwen, and Maggie, Galahad was taken care of well, and Arthur had never slept better in his life, but the worry would not leave his chest. Slowly, it ate away at him, driving him madder each day.

The prince sat at his desk, practicing his penmanship that he couldn't concentrate on as he ran a hand through his hair.

"That's it, I can't take this anymore! I'm spending the day with my son!" Shooting up from his chair and storming out of his chambers, the prince sets off to find him and do just that.

He found him with all three of his caretakers in the Lady Morgana's chambers, not even bothering to knock or wipe the determined scowl off of his face. They all looked at him curiously, not that he cared.

"Arthur, good afternoon, did you need something?" Maggie greeted with a bow.

"I will be taking my son for the rest of the day." His tone left no room for argument.

They all looked at each other, smiling, and Morgana shrugged. "Alright,"

"Alright?" Just like that, his son was in his arms, wide awake and cooing, but Arthur regarded the three, innocently-smiling women with a fair amount of skepticism. "Normally, I have to fight a little to get him away from you…"

Maggie smiles, a motherly and understanding smile with just a hint of private amusement. "We knew you would want him back eventually, Arthur. I think he's missed you too, just look."

Arthur looks down, and the breath in his chest stills. The very tiny smile that was on his son's face grew to a full, gummy grin. "When did he…?"

"Just now, my lord." Gwen pipes up. "We have been trying for days once Gaius told us he should begin smiling soon, but it seems he's truly his father's son."

Arthur can't help but grin, a breathless, prideful grin. "He's smiling…"

Galahad reaches up with one small hand, grabbing a fistful of his plain, ivory shirt and giving it a good few tugs. Arthur grinned wider. His son was, he thought, an exceptionally strong baby, despite Morgana's constant attempts to deflate his fatherly-pride by saying it was only natural. Yes, his son was the strongest, smartest, and most handsome, loved, and protected baby in all of Albion. Nothing could convince Arthur otherwise, not even Morgana.

Arthur does not register the dreamy goodbye he bids the three ladies as he spun on his heel, he doesn't pay attention as he walks on auto-pilot, navigating the corridors with practiced ease. The only thing he focused on was the sweet, sweet music of his son's light, bubbly giggles as Arthur played with his foot and tickled him, gums still proudly on display.

The prince, with practiced ease once more, entered his chambers and settled his son upon his large bed. Promptly settling down beside him, feet propped on the surplus of pillows, his boots already kicked off, the prince snakes an arm around his boy, drawing him to his chest. Turning over with Galahad still held, Arthur relishes the feeling of the boy's familiar weight on his chest, the feeling of their breathes rising in falling together, feeling Galahad's every movement, all timed to the steady staccato of his own heartbeat. Arthur reaches up with his free hand to stroke his son's thin crop of hair once more. Gazing at the flowing canopy around his bed, Arthur sighs contentedly, a lazy smile crossing his face.

"Daddy will always love you, Gal…You make every back-breaking second worth it. And…no matter what…I want you to know that everything I do, I do for you, my precious baby boy. I will never leave you, Gal, and I promise that I will train to be the best fighter in the entire land, just to guarantee that I come home to you. But, you have to promise me something, okay?" Arthur grins devilishly. "Promise me that you'll always be waiting with a big hug to give your big, strong daddy. Can you do that?"

Arthur waits for a skipping beat, only to hear that soft, escaping sigh that all infants make, like a hum in their tiny throats, and he knows that his words have been received.

With a burden-free mind and body aching in a reminder of the past week, the father closes his eyes to follow his son into slumber.

* * *

><p><em>Arthur…<em>

The prince groggily started awake. "Maggie…? What is it…?"

_Arthur._

The half-awake boy slowly half-sat up, eyes blinking to adjust to the utter darkness of his chambers. It was the dead of night, but Galahad was not making as much as a peep. "Maggie?"

_Arthur._

That was not Maggie.

The voice sounded old, raspy…and like it was in his head… Disgruntled, Arthur slowly sits up, swinging his legs over the bed as he tugs the blankets away, wincing when his bare feet hit the cold floors with a dull smack. The prince immediately reaches for the sword he keeps hidden between his bed and nightstand table, surveying the now-semi-darkness around him as he forces his mind awake, adrenaline beginning to quicken his heartbeat.

He jumps, swirling around as a light whimper is heard behind him whirling around with sword poised to strike. He hears it again, then a coo. It was Galahad. He relaxes, but does not drop his guard.

_Arthur, come._

He whirled again, eyes sharp for any sign of movement. Galahad cooed again behind him, making the beginnings of a fuss. Arthur slowly moved to the crib with his back facing it, sword held at a low defense as he quickly whipped his head so that his eyes landed on his son for a brief moment, tense as he listened for anything.

_Arthur._

Arthur stopped breathing. He felt something…a presence outside of his room, but…not…normal…

"What…is that…?"

* * *

><p>"Where am I?"<p>

The prince stood, sword under arm, torch in hand, his son on the arm that pinned his sword to his side, he was wearing nothing but his night pants, and he stood at the mouth of a cave leading to a rocky chasm, his back to a stone stairwell.

"What the hell is th—?"

He has no more time to do or say anything, as he feels the buffing breeze of wind from above him, causing him to stagger back a step or two, his heart racing of fright.

"Hello, Arthur."

Dragon.

There was a big, green, scaly…winged _beast _in front of him. It was _smiling _at him…he thinks… Arthur instinctively tightened his grip on his son.

"I must say, you certainly are susceptible to magic."

The prince's eyes bulge, his throat going dry. "Magic…? …You're a dragon…I… " He looks around him in disbelief, mouth agape. "I'm underneath the castle?"

"Yes, Arthur, you are." The dragon remarked drily. "Quite the observant one, eh?"

Arthur scowled at that remark, looking skeptically to the beast of legend before him. "And just what do you want with me, dragon? Why have you called me here?"

"A better question would be; why haven't I, my boy?" The dragon quips back. "And my name is Kilgharrah, thank you."

Arthur opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and licks his dry lips, all while still looking unconvinced that this was happening. "Kilgharrah, then…Why have you summoned me?"

Kilgharrah chuckles. "Destiny, Prince Arthur."

Arthur stares. "My destiny?"

"Well, yes, yours and your son's."

Arthur reflexively looks down at the infant, alert and curious, in his arms. He looks back up petulantly. "What about it?"

Kilgharrah tilts his head, large, yellow eyes sparkling with amusement. "Everything. You and the young prince have much ahead of you. You are to be the two greatest kings of Albion; the Once and Future King, and the King of the United."

"King…my son…"

The scaly creature rolls its eyes. "But of course. He is your heir, your son."

"But…he…"

"It matters not of his birth, only his blood. He is your son. Or do you believe your father's words?"

Arthur bristles and glares, hissing through gritted teeth, "Of course not! But law is law!"

"And what one king has decreed, another can change. Were you not planning to name him your heir from the beginning?"

Arthur looks as though he's been hit over the head with a skillet. "I…well, yes…"

"Then what would stop you?" Arthur glares once more and chooses to remain silent. The dragon sighs. "I have brought you here because I wish to inform you of your destiny, just as, one day, I will inform the young Galahad of his."

Arthur narrows his eyes. "And just what makes you think I'll let you near my son?"

The dragon gives a pointy, yellow-toothed grin. "He is near me now, is he not? Besides, I have already proven how vulnerable to the influence of magic you are by leading you here once. What makes you think you can stop me?"

"I will inform my father and have you executed as you should have been."

Now it's Kilgharrah's turn to glare. Arthur shivers, his color draining, as he feels a bone-chilling wave of _power _roll over him in reply to his threat. The silence is deafening until Kilgharrah deigns to speak again. "There is a reason I, of all of my kind, am merely detained. Be careful with your words, Prince Arthur."

Arthur swallows, finding the strength to nod. When he speaks his voice is a hoarse, quiet whisper. "What…What is my destiny? _Galahad's _destiny?"

Kilgharrah seems to scrutinize him briefly before deciding the threat has passed and answering. "You are to be the king that unites all of Albion in peace. The entire country under your, and eventually young Galahad's rule. Your son's destiny, however, is not so cut and dry, I'm afraid. More than anything, I have called you here to warn you, Arthur, of what your son may or may not become, depending on you."

Now, the prince looks truly taken aback. "What do you mean? I will raise my son to be good and honorable and just."

"It is not a question of the boy's character. It is a matter of the environment which will shape his outlook, and therefore, affect his destiny. In the years to come, you must keep him away from harm, from Uther especially, but, when the time comes that you least expect, you will need to make a decision. This one choice alone could bring about the rise or the destruction of the Golden Age, of everything. Take caution, Prince Arthur, and know that things may not always be as simple as they seem."

"Wait, what do you m—"

But the dragon shifts, crouches, and leaps, flying up into the darkness above before Arthur can so much as blink.

"Wait!"

"Remember, young Arthur, the choice, once such a time arises." The dragon calls from somewhere above him. Arthur is left with only silence to help him ponder. He looks down, and his son peacefully sleeps against his chest.

Many questions left unanswered, Arthur turns and begins the journey above.


	3. Blood Ties & Loyalties

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

* * *

><p><em>Arthur wanted to scream. He wanted to beg it to stop. Everywhere he looked, bodies littered the ground. Screams filled his ears; men's, women's…and children's. The rain felt cold on his skin, but it did nothing to make him move, did nothing to drown out the screams as he watched his men slaughter the people of the camp.<em>

This is not justice. _He thought._

"_Please…help…" A woman, her stomach gushing blood, was crawling across the muddy ground toward him, her hand reaching out. Arthur winced as a blade came down on her neck, his wide eyes staring into the lifeless ones of her head as it came to a stop at his feet, smeared with mud and blood._

_Her mouth was still open, frozen in the unfinished plea._

This is murder…manslaughter…_ He thought again, fighting the bile that was rising at the back of his throat with a convulsive swallow. _Why?

_That's when he heard it. It was a cry that pierced him above all the rest, the one that rang in his ears the loudest. It was the cry of a baby._

Gala…had…

"_Alister, go! Please…go!"_

_Arthur turned his head in the direction of the crying and a woman's frantic pleas. He saw a knight pressing the tip of a blade into the chest of a boy that looked only a year or so younger than himself, dark hair sopping and plastered to his face and dark-brown eyes wide and trembling with fear. Still, he stood defensively in front of a weeping woman, who clutched a bundle of blankets to her chest for dear life. She shared the boy's eyes, but her hair was lighter, even when darkened by the rain. The dead body of a tall but lean man, his hair and pale skin matching the boy's was just feet away._

"_Alister!" The woman cried again. The knight took a step back and brought his blade back, rearing to strike._

_The baby's crying grew louder, and all Arthur could think about was his son. In his mind's eye, he saw himself standing in front of the beautiful girl who'd given him that child, holding their son while cowering in fear and screaming at him to get away as Uther came ever closer, the steel of his blade gleaming with approaching death._

"Stop it! **Stop**!" _Before Arthur knew what he was doing, his feet were sloshing in the muddy, blood-soaked earth, unable to be heard over the crying and the pounding of his heart._

I have to protect them! I have to protect my family! _He chanted in his mind, unable to stop himself as he ground his teeth and drew his clenched fist back._

_The knight had paused as heard the prince shout, turning his head to face his lord as Arthur threw the punch with all of his momentum and weight. The man fell to the ground, unconscious as his nose was gushing blood. Arthur stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. Without thinking, he turned to the Druid family he had just saved, breathless, terrified, and confused._

_The face that met his eyes was one he will never forget. Dark, drowning eyes filled with terror slowly came alive with a small spark of hope, even as the boy stood, still ready to die defending his family._

_Arthur only said two words. "Go. Now."_

_For a brief moment, he could see that he and the boy had a moment of perfect clarity. Then, the boy turned and scrambled to gather his mother and sibling. Arthur watched them as they ran and disappeared into the trees, heart still thudding in his ears as he fought to calm his breathing. The boy looked back only once, but as he herded his mother with him by the arm, both of them barely managing to stay upright, Arthur met his eyes, and the message was clear._

Thank you.

_When he could see their backs no longer, Arthur turned and began shouting at his men to leave the camp and any remaining survivors. They were only ten in number, including the prince, but they had all seen what had happened._

* * *

><p><em>CRACK<em>

Arthur reeled from the backhand blow, fingers flying to gently probe the smarting, red mark that would surely form a bruise on the left side of his face as he stumbled. However, he quickly straightened, looking at his father through the tears that had sprung to his eyes out of pain.

He had never seen Uther look so furious. _Never_.

"_What have you _**done**_?!_" Arthur didn't dare respond, so Uther continued, hissing so softly that one might think there was heat coming from his scathing words. "Do you have any idea what you were doing, Arthur? What those _monsters _could do, now that you've let them go?"

Arthur waited until he was sure Uther was allowing him to speak, talking softly in an effort to hide the shaking of his voice. "I ordered the men to spare the women and children, and some ignored the order, Sire."

"As they should have!" Uther roared. "Man, woman, or child; no matter who they are, if they have magic, they are corrupt with the evil of the curse in their veins! And you let them go!"

"I didn't see evil, Father. I saw _sin_! I saw slaughter! I saw men—good men—become savage _animals_ as they disobeyed a _direct order_ from their future-king! And," he continued, drawing a shaky breath as he squared his shoulders. "I saw myself in their shoes."

The king's face melted in confusion as he looked at his son. "What are you talking about?"

"I…saw a boy…He was protecting his mother and younger sibling…but…in my mind…I saw myself protecting Galahad and—"

He stops, flinching as Uther lands a hand in an iron-grip on his shoulder. "You _naïve, nonsensical_ child…"

"I did what I believed was right, Father—"

"You do not know what is right, Arthur; you have fully proved that tonight…Perhaps I have made a mistake—you are obviously too young to—"

Arthur's frown deepened, anger sparking in his eyes. "I am fourteen—"

"And obviously still clinging to child-like fantasies! If anyone else had done this, I would strip them of their status as a knight! Guards, take him away!"

"Father…" Arthur stared, numb and non-resisting as the guards grabbed him by the arms on both sides and half-carried half-dragged him from the room.

Uther met his stunned gaze. "You must learn that there is a right and a wrong way of doing things, Arthur. I'll see you let out in a week."

The doors closed in the prince's face.

* * *

><p>A dull banging that rattled the iron bars drew him from his thoughts with a start. "Dada!"<p>

Arthur looked up to see the peaking face of his one-year-old son, smiling at him from outside the bars with Morgana and Maggie at his side.

"Hello ladies," He allowed the ghost of a rueful smile to cross his lips as he lumbered up from where he sat against the far, walking forward and carefully crouching down so that he could snake his fingers through the bars to touch his baby's cheek. "And gentleman,"

"Whatever did the proud Arthur do to wind up in this dark corner, I wonder?" Morgana crossed her arms beneath her chest, her voice casual with an undertone of condescending.

Arthur sighed, but firmly met her gaze. "I doubt you'd believe me if I told you."

The king's ward simply tilted her head, a smirk upon her lips. "Try. I'm more trusting than I look."

Arthur switched his gaze to that of his son's nurse. "Maggie, it's late. He should be getting to bed."

The older woman swiftly nodded and bent at the waist to gently take Galahad by the shoulders to guide him from the bars. Lifting him up from underneath his arms in one smooth motion, she smiled at the cross between a pout and a confused look on his face as he looked between her and his father, mewling in displeasure.

"Say goodnight to Daddy, Galley." She crooned.

Galahad, instead, reached a flailing hand for his father, big, brown eyes pleading. "Dada! Dada!"

"Don't worry, Gal." Arthur stood up and placed an indirect-kiss on his son's head with his fingers, smoothing his hair as his smile was tinged with sympathy and affection. "Daddy will be back to tucking you in soon; I promise, but go with Maggie for now, okay?"

However, it would seem that Galahad would not have that, his face puckering and breath hitching in the beginnings of an eminent tantrum. "D-Dada…"

Maggie did not need the order, quickly bidding goodbye to the prince and striding away. Galahad's cries could be heard clear down the hall, only completely dying once the door to the dungeon's chambers above the iron-wrought stairwell was heard closing.

"What happened, Arthur?"

The prince turned from the long moment of silence to see his foster-sister looking at him with curiosity and worry. He sighed, turning to go back to his seat on the hay-covered floor as he cast a disdainful glance towards the pie of armor across from him. He was barefoot in black trousers and a red shirt, running a hand through his mused hair as the cold stone of the wall pressed into his spine.

"Arthur," Morgana repeated.

"I stopped the raid, Morgana." Arthur cut her off, voice caught between exhaustion and aggravation.

Morgana's eyes widened. She knew that Arthur didn't exactly agree with Uther's standing, but he never disagreed with it as much as she herself did. "And why did you do that? I thought you were itching for the chance to prove yourself as a leader."

Arthur took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Because, my men disobeyed me; I ordered the women and children to be spared, and when they weren't…" He uselessly threw up his hands.

"Surely there's more to it than that. You aren't one to invoke Uther's anger, and never to this extreme."

"Morgana—"

"You're in the _dungeons_, Arthur, in a jail cell, with a bruise from the king's hand on your face. Uther would never strike you, let alone imprison you, or me, for that matter."

For a moment, tense silence reigned supreme, foster-siblings exchanging stubborn glares.

"I saw people die tonight, Morgana, _innocent_ people."

Morgana bit her lip. "You mean infants and their mothers…like Galahad…don't you?" Arthur's stiffening posture and hung head were all the answers she needed. "No matter what your father says, you did the right thing tonight, Arthur, and you are a better man for it."

"Better…right." Arthur muttered, a sneer unseen by Morgana marring his features. "Tell me, do you think being a better man should warrant immunity from my crimes?"

"Immunity? What in God's name do you mean? Look where you are, Arthur."

The prince took another steadying breath. "Father said that…that if it were any other knight, they would be stripped of their knighthood. Me, I get a week in the barracks because I'm the prince."

"So?"

Arthur's head shot up to give her the full blunt of his incredulous stare "So?! What do you mean _so_? How can I be expected to look my men in the face and give them orders, knowing that we are not truly equals? I would never ask a man to do what I could not do myself."

"Hold on a moment," Morgana held up a hand for pause. "You cannot claim one thing and then follow another, Arthur."

Arthur's shoulders squared in defense. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, if I'm hearing correctly, you are saying that you believe your title should not hold precedence over honorability and fairness."

"That's exactly right. Your point would be?"

"Your son, of course."

Arthur managed to glare around a deep frown carved into his face. "What…about Galahad?"

The corners of the lady's lips twitched into a smile. "Come, now, just how many times a day, since his birthday celebration alone, have you proclaimed that your son is being unfairly treated because of his mother?"

"It's true!" The prince quickly shot back. "Just because he's a servant's child does not mean he is not of royalty's worth!"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "You really don't see it, do you?"

"See _what_, Morgana?" Arthur was truly beginning to lose his patience.

"The hypocrisy; you claim that Galahad should be entitled to a proper status of royalty when he is treated unfairly, yet you, the prince, want to be treated like any other knight."

"Galahad is of royal blood—!"

"As are you."

"Is it truly so _wrong_ to want to give my son the same as I had?!"

"No, of course not, but you can't turn around and say titles shouldn't differentiate how someone is treated if you believe otherwise for your son's case."

Arthur began to chuckle after a moment of silence. "Just what are you saying, Morgana, besides that I'm a hypocrite? What is this about?"

"Wake up, Arthur! Birthright is _not _everything, no matter which side of the tree you look at! Do your son, and yourself, a favor and stop hanging up on the fact that you're a prince. If you aren't careful, you could confuse him for the rest of his life."

With those parting words, Morgana turned away and left Arthur to brood over her words.

* * *

><p>"Father,"<p>

Uther looked up from his conversation with Leon as his son threw open the throne room doors. He smiled. "Good morning Arthur. I trust you are relieved to be able to see the Great Hall once more?"

Arthur came to a stop inches in front of him, crossing his arms with lightning in his eyes. "Are you saying…that you will not treat me as the others?"

Uther raised his eyebrows. "Pardon?"

"The knights," Arthur hissed.

"Are you still going on about that?" The king gave a soundless laugh, fists on his hips. "You've been released from the dungeons. It's the end of it."

"But you would not give me the same punishment as you would any other? _Why_, Father?"

Uther's smile fell. "You are the prince and future-king, Arthur. A king must be a warrior fit to lead his men into battle."

"So that means that no matter what, I will never do anything to lose my status? For _appearance's sake_?" Uther says nothing. "No, I cannot accept this—"

"Arthur—!"

"I relinquish my claim to knighthood."

"_Arthur_!"

"I cannot allow myself to be given special treatment. How can I look my men in the eye and give them an order, knowing that I am held above them simply because I am the prince?"

"You cannot change who you are, Arthur." Uther glared at his son.

"How you are treated should not depend solely on status!"

Uther held up his hands in surrender, turning away from his son. "Fine, you are hereby suspended—"

"It's too late for that, my lord."

"If you are not a knight, you will lose your seat on the council, Arthur. And you cannot become a knight a second time. You will cripple yourself as a king! I cannot allow this!"

"You can be a warrior without being a knight, and you can be a leader without being a warrior."

Uther gaped at him, searching his face. "Have you gone mad?" He asked quietly.

Arthur smiled. "Why despair, Father? From where I'm standing, it seems that I have just increased my life expectancy by leaps and bounds."

The prince turned and walked away, cape flowing behind him with every bouncing step. The king can only stare after him, mouth agape.

* * *

><p>"What are you playing at, Arthur?"<p>

Arthur looked up from the blocks he and Galahad played with to offer his foster-sister a smile. "Whatever do you mean?"

Morgana strode to the heart of the prince's chambers to glare down at him from where he sat. "It's halfway around the kingdom; you've given up knighthood."

Arthur only nodded. "That's right."

"And what exactly do you plan to do now? You realize a king must fight for his people, not to mention it was only by luck, and your eminent knighting, no doubt, that earned you the seat at the council's table."

Arthur stood up to face her, smile unwavering. "It's just as I told Father, Morgana; you can be a warrior without being a knight, and you can be a leader without being a warrior."

Morgana raised an eyebrow. "You intend to take the full test of admittance to the council?" She snorted. "You won't survive pouring over books of law and history."

"I will do it for my boy. He needs his father to set a proper example."

"A proper example of what? When something doesn't go your way, pursue the most impossible path to get it anyhow? What about you don't always get what you want?"

Arthur only shrugged. "He'll have to learn some things on his own, Morgana. He can't learn _everything_ from me."

"I would fear for Camelot, were that the case. Regardless, what do you intend to do should, barring a miracle, you not manage to re-instate your seat on the council?"

Arthur looked at her with a face scrunched in displeasure. "I'm eternally grateful for your vote of confidence, my lady."

Morgana gave a breathless, disbelieving smile, eyes wide with incredulousness. "Are you truly so pig-headed? Not a knight and uninvolved in your kingdom's politics, your reign's only hope would be the queen of all queens! I sorely hope Galahad does not follow in your footsteps, or the Pendragon dynasty is unsalvageable. In fact,"

Morgana quickly and easily lifted the confused-looking toddler into her arms, prompting a smile from him once she gave him her free hand to hold as he was perched on her hip. Arthur was on his feet as she turned her back and proceeded to leave.

"Oi, where are you taking him?"

Morgana shot him a smile over her shoulder. "To begin his education; from the looks of things, he'll need as early a start as possible."

* * *

><p>AN: Hi guys! Sorry this chap took so long, but I must have rewritten it ten times. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Drop a review to let me know what you think.


	4. Of Dreams & Deceptions

Disclaimer: Merlin and everything belonging to the franchise is property of BBC and Shine. I do not profit from this fictional work and only own the OCs.

* * *

><p>"No…no…" Morgana whimpered and twisted underneath her covers, her brow furrowed in discomfort as her breathing picked up. "Galahad…no…"<p>

* * *

><p><em>Galahad thrashed wildly in his sheets, face red as his screams were muffled by the white cloth suffocating him. His tiny legs and arms futilely beat against his mattress as he began to choke. A man above him smiled, showing a broken, gnarled front tooth and dressed in a chainmail that was cast in a fiery-orange glow from the setting sun that bathed him and made his nearly-shaven-bald head shine. <em>

_Eventually, Galahad stilled, his limbs falling with one last, dull thunk as his eyes, bright and glassy, fluttered shut. The one-year-old breathed no more._

"_Sweet dreams, little one." A raspy, sickening voice to match a crooked-toothed smile hissed._

* * *

><p>"NO!" Morgana shrieked and bolted upright in her bed, breathing in deep, frantic gasps.<p>

"Morgana," Gwen ran in, eyes filled with worry as she picked up her skirts and ran to her bedside. Gwen touched Morgana's shoulder, only to have to fight to pry the lady's hands from in front of her face as she shrank away, screaming. "Morgana! Morgana, it's me! It's Gwen! Wake up!"

"Gwen?" Morgana stared up at her maid, eyes wide with terror. Gwen smoothed her hair and tried to calm her down.

"It was just a dream, my lady." Gwen reassured her softly, looking firmly into her eyes.

"I…" Morgana tried to force her mouth to work, heart still pounding in her chest as she fought to breathe. "G-Galahad…"

Fear settled its icy grip onto her heart. Galahad.

"Morgana?" Gwen prompted once she fell silent. Morgana ignored her, suddenly wrenched out of her loose grip, and threw her blankets off of her sweat-drenched form. "Morgana!"

Gwen had no choice but to chase after her as she burst from the room and into the hall in a sprint. Morgana ran blindly throughout the maze of halls, the slapping of her bare feet against stone hardly registering above the rush of blood in her ears, or Gwen's frantic calls for her to stop. She couldn't stop; she had to save her nephew. She nearly stumbled as she came to a slow in front of the prince's chamber's doors, though only enough to use her momentum to throw them open and keep moving, ignoring the harsh crash of the wood against the walls.

Relief flooded her as soon as the startled wail of a baby reached her ears, and she dashed to the crib.

"Who's there—" The clatter of steal on stone caused her to jump, freezing mid-step. Arthur stared at her, clad only in his sleeping pants as he squinted in the darkness. His eyes widened. "Morgana?! Good God, what are you doing?! You gave me a bloody heart attack!"

"Arthur?!" Maggie came running in, holding her skirts in one hand and brandishing a gleaming silver platter in the other.

"False alarm, Maggie!" Arthur snapped irritably, waving his arms to wave away the ridiculousness of the tension in the room.

The nanny's eyes swept across the room, filled with shock as she slowly lowered her improvised weapon to her side, almost reluctantly. Gwen spared her a reassuring smile, weariness and awkwardness as tingeing the soft apology. Meanwhile, Morgana looked as though she was a deer facing a sharp arrow.

"I…I see…" Maggie lightly cleared her throat, mustering her dignity to dip into a curtsey with her cheeks aflame. "Goodnight, my lord and lady."

"Goodnight, Maggie." Arthur sighed wearily. She nodded and turned to return to her adjoining chambers next door.

Arthur sprang from bed and scooped up the sword he had dropped as he approached Morgana with a glare. Morgana, over her shock but not her fear, ignored him, shoving past as he came near and quickly scooping her screaming nephew in her arms, holding him tightly to her to reassure herself that he was real and unharmed. Her shoulders shook as her racing heart finally stilled, and she took a deep, shuddering breath as she swayed and shushed the miracle in her arms.

Arthur watched her with mouth agape. He turned to the maid he had just realized was there as she stepped up beside him, exchanging a bewildered look with her before gesturing with his loosely held sword to his son and foster-sister. "Can you explain this?"

Gwen glanced back at them with skepticism before returning her gaze to the prince. "The Lady Morgana woke from a nightmare not but a moment ago, my lord."

Arthur's brow furrowed in worry and disgruntlement. "What was it about?"

Gwen only shook her head. "I…have no idea, my lord. Perhaps…_something_ pertaining to Galahad in danger…?"

Arthur grunted and turned his attention back to the pair, stepping forward to test her theory with a hand on Morgana's shoulder. Morgana looked up at him with distracted, questioning eyes. Galahad was completely quiet in her arms at this point, though she still rocked him and rubbed soothing circles on his back. Arthur managed a small, soft smile at the sight of Gal cuddling into her chest.

"Morgana, what is this about?" He asked, with the same gentle tone he used to calm his son.

"I…" She momentarily dropped her gaze, but quickly looked back up, biting her lip as worry shone clearly in her eyes in the darkness. "I think it…would be best…if Galahad slept in my room for a few nights."

"And why is that?"

"I…I can't explain it. Just have a feeling. Please, Arthur."

Arthur sighed and ran a hand over his face. On one hand, it was just a nightmare. On the other, if this reoccurred, it would not be good for anyone's sleep, especially Galahad. Not to mention that it would not please Uther if he learned Arthur had up and given his son to Morgana for a few days, likely leading to him jumping to some ridiculous conclusion that Arthur was tired of taking care of his son.

"Morgana," Arthur began, caught between sleepiness and soothing her. "I don't know what caused this, but I can assure you that Galahad will be fine. It's one of the reasons I've been avoiding putting him in my old nursery."

"But—"

Arthur spared her a smile and pulled her into a quick, one-armed hug. "I appreciate your concern."

"Arthur!" Morgana used the arm that wasn't entirely supporting Galahad to shove him away, glaring into his eyes. "This is no jest; I saw him die in his crib! Someone was suffocating him!"

Both of the prince's eyebrows rose as his eyes bulged. "And where was I during this?" He asks incredulously.

"Does it _matter_?!"

Arthur flinched from the volume of her voice, raising his hands in defense. "Okay, Morgana, calm down. It was just a dream."

The king's ward stared at him with sinking hopes. "You…don't believe me?"

Arthur put his hands on both of her shoulders and gave her a look between pity and solemnity. "Dreams are dreams, Morgana. No matter what they show us, no matter how scary and vivid, they aren't real."

Morgana only shook her head, fighting tears that threatened to fall once more, her voice breaking. "Arthur, please, I'm begging you. It don't care if you believe me or not, but this is your son's life! Even if it is only a dream, even if I'm crazy, are you willing to take the chance?"

Arthur threw his head back and groaned, running his hands over his face. "_Morgana_, enough; this is an end to it!"

He carefully but quickly took Galahad from her arms and moved past her to put him in his crib. Morgana could only stare at him as Gwen came up and took her firmly by the upper arm, curtseying to Arthur and bidding him goodnight before quickly, and quiet literally, dragging Morgana from the room.

* * *

><p>Uther drank deeply from his goblet, ignoring the burning taste as it went down as he stared at the two men before him, both young men knighted only last year.<p>

"I want to make myself perfectly clear, gentleman." The king began as he set down his empty cup and leaned forward in his throne. "Should you fail this task, you will be stripped of your status as knights of Camelot, and both your families fined heavily."

They both bowed, the young man with a shaven head of light-brown hair, Sir Alex, speaking up. "Worry not, my lord; we will not fail you."

Uther nodded dismissively. "I will take care of Arthur for tomorrow. Remember to make it appear as if the child suffocated on his blanket, and make sure no one sees you."

The other knight—a man with long, shaggy, black hair and dark eyes called Maxwell—looks skeptical. "My lord, if I may, do you believe that this will convince Prince Arthur to reconsider his position of knighthood?"

The king glared the insolent knave to silence. "It will do so, and more, _boy_. Do not question your king."

He immediately bowed in respect. "Forgive me, Sire."

Uther only grunted, dismissing the two with a wave of his hand as he refilled his goblet.

Without that brat in the picture, Arthur would no longer have an 'heir', and therefore have a reason to marry—a marriage which would work to both strengthen the kingdom and produce a proper future-king. Also, with the loss of this useless child, Arthur would harden to death and become more sensible, as a man and warrior on the field of battle. True, it would be a blow to him, but it was high time he stopped living in his fantasy world of childish notions and ideals. A bastard could never be a king, and the sooner Arthur lost his attachment to that wretched thing, the better.

It was time his son became a man.

* * *

><p>"How can he do this? How can he <em>willingly <em>put his son in danger?"

"But what can you do, Morgana?" Gwen worriedly tracked Morgana's irritated pacing with her eyes, having long since given up on persuading her to go back to bed. "Arthur doesn't believe you."

"It doesn't matter!" The lady snapped. "I will just have to take matters into my own hands."

"How? It isn't as if you could stand guard outside of Arthur's chambers every night, waiting for something to happen."

"I'll think of something; I have too. I will not let Galahad die."

Gwen sighed, knowing from the fiery glint in her mistress's eyes that there was no talking her out of it, only trying to control the damage.

* * *

><p>"Come on, Gal; you can do it! Atta boy, just keep going! Daddy's proud."<p>

Arthur cheered on his son as they walked through the sunny halls of the castle, ignoring the softened looks from the servants whenever they passed. Camelot's prince was bent at the waist, arms outstretched and ready to catch the boy in front of him at a moment's notice. The one-year-old nearly tripped for every few steps he took, somehow managing to keep upright by way of leaning in whatever was the opposite of the direction he was beginning to fall. Arthur was ready to catch him, but he preferred to let Galahad walk on his own as much as he could. Considering that he had spent the past three months leading him by the hands to get him to walk at all, the prince didn't want his boy to become overly-dependent.

"Arthur!"

Quick as a flash, the prince scooped his son up from underneath the arms and drew up to his full height, holding Galahad close to him as the little one burrowed his face into his father's neck and cuddled into his chest.

"My lord," Arthur watched his father approach with a wary eye as he reflexively rubbed his son's back. "Is there something you need of me?"

Uther grinned at him, causing Arthur's guard to rise further. "How would you like to accompany me on a hunt this afternoon? We must restock the meat supplies."

Both of the prince's eyebrows rose. "Well, I…I don't see why not, but…what has brought this about, my lord?"

The king laughed and shook his head, still grinning. "I just thought you might like to come; that's all. You and I have not had much time together these past few months, and I think an outdoor excursion could do us both some good."

Arthur nodded and forced a small smile. A hunt sounded nice, but the prince could not remember the last occasion his father deigned to actually spend some quality time with him, and definitely not out of the blue like this…Still, what harm could it do to go? Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to try and get along like they used to, the way he remembered.

His smile broadened as it grew more genuine with his thoughts. "Sure, I'll let Maggie take over for the afternoon, just let me grab my crossbow."

* * *

><p>Morgana stared out her window at the cobblestone side-path that led to the forest from the east gate, watching as Arthur and Uther rode off with a handful of guards. Gwen watched her from behind, studying her face from the reflection in the glass.<p>

_The fool, _Morgana thought sadly as she watched her brother disappear. _If only I could make him understand…somehow._

"What are you going to do, my lady?"

"I don't know yet, but I have to do something, Gwen. I know that much."

"Why not go to the king?" The dark-skinned maid asked, hopping to deter her lady from such a risky course.

Morgana turned to her with a snort. "Please, Uther cares more about a sack of flour than his grandson, and even if he didn't, am I just supposed to tell him that I can see the future? We both know what he would do to me."

"You're his ward; he would not harm you. Besides, what of Arthur? Galahad sleeps in his room, so for him to not intervene in an intrusion, something must have been done to him that you didn't see."

"Regardless, Uther would never believe me, Gwen. I need to do this. I could never live with myself knowing something happened to either of them that I could have prevented."

Gwen smiled sadly and stepped forward to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I know, my lady. I just don't want you to get hurt as well."

"So you'll help me?"

Gwen couldn't quite bite back a grin. "Don't I always, my lady?"

* * *

><p>Margret watched with a doting smile and sharp eyes as the two children played on the floor of her chambers on a large, wool blanket. Her own daughter, Sarah, who had just turned seven months old, was crawling as fast as her little limbs would chug her along, trying her hardest to catch Galahad as he toddled and staggered along ahead of her while laughing to his heart's content. He would stop almost every few paces and glance behind him while he waited until Sarah was almost within reach of him, then toddle forward another few steps as he giggled, finding much fun in the game.<p>

Since her birth, it had been obvious to Morgana, her maid Gwen, and, of course, Margret herself that Galahad was smitten with his nanny's daughter: lavishing his toys on her, trying to teach her whatever milestones he'd learned, and raising hell whenever she cried for any reason, angry that she was unhappy in some way. Even when she was a newborn, the six-month-old boy would spend many of the hours he was with his nanny simply starring at her. He seemed both confused and fascinated, and did not dare to touch her unless encouraged to do so after one instance of making her cry when he disturbed her sleep—he was worried he broke her.

On top of all of that, it was a proclaimed betrayal in Arthur's eyes that her name was Galahad's first word only two months prior, even when he said 'Dada' not a week later.

The mother and nurse quickly looked up as the door to her room opened, her face brightening at the sight of the Lady of Camelot and her maid and friend. "My lady, Gwen, hello."

"Hello, Maggie." Morgana greeted, her gaze quickly locking onto the two children playing on the floor.

"Mama!" Galahad stopped mid-step as soon as he spotted the lady, immediately running over to her and latching onto her skirt as he came to a stop. "Mama! Mama!"

Morgana's bright smile was dazzling as she looked down at the bubbly little boy. Maggie chuckled with just a hint of devilishness. "Don't you think we should tell Arthur about this? He'll find out eventually."

"And it will be deliciously humorous when he does." Morgana's crackle was devious and rich as she joyfully scooped Galahad into her arms and peppered the laughing toddler's faces with affectionate kisses. "Can't you just see his horrified expression?"

Margret giggled behind her hand. "With all due respect, my lady, you are terrible."

Morgana simply smiled with a tilt of the head. "Ah, but I play the part so well, do I not?"

The nanny hummed with agreement. "What brings you here, my lady?"

Morgana did not reply for a moment, expression turning sadly wistful as she swayed with the prince's son on her hip before turning to look at Margret with a far graver expression. "I've come to ask a favor of you, Margret, for Galahad."

The young woman's eyebrows arched in surprise. "What favor, Lady Morgana?"

"I need you to act as reinforcement, so to speak."

* * *

><p>Arthur watched the orange-tinted sky with increasing anxiety as the sun continued its slow descent, his quiver only holding a few unused arrows. Only an hour remained until dark.<p>

"Father, shouldn't we be getting back?"

"Come now, Arthur, we still have daylight and arrows." Uther waved his worries away as if he were bating away a fly while laughing with the men of his guard.

"But, Father, we have plenty of meat." The prince protested reasonably, gesturing to the cart attached to a horse which was laden with two deer and four rabbits.

"Come; let us see if we can manage to find another boar." The king suggested merrily to his men, ignoring his son.

Arthur sighed, given little choice but to follow behind them.

* * *

><p>"Where is Arthur? Surely he should have returned by now." Maggie stated with a fretful glance out of the nearest window.<p>

"I don't know." Morgana whispered from beside her as she took another swift peak at Arthur's chambers across from them, hidden by the corner they carefully ducked behind with. A sword was concealed behind her back, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. "All I do know is that he wasn't defending Galahad in my dream, and it was very nearly dusk."

"What about the assailant?" Maggie inquired just as softly, armed with a large-bladed dagger concealed in the folds of clothes in the hamper she carried and ready to provide a distraction. "Do you know who to look for?"

"I've told you; it's a man wearing chainmail and sporting a gnarled front tooth and a closely shaven head, perhaps an assassin disguised as a guard."

They both stilled as two pairs of mismatched, clanking footsteps approached, tensing. The third pair of guards to patrol the hall that evening came into view, one with long, shaggy, black hair and matching, dark eyes. The sight of the other's shaven head of brown hair made her anxiety rise. They seemed to be chatting merrily, and when the suspect of her fears smiled, Morgana's blood ran cold.

One of the teeth in his bottom row not only jutted out from overcrowding, but was jagged and chipped. One look at Maggie's face told Morgana that she saw it as well before turning back to watch what would happen, fully prepared to take action.

* * *

><p>"I'll sneak in, and you just keep walking and make a circuit of the hall. Keep suspicion away, that way." Alex was saying as they drew closer to Prince Arthur's chambers, flashing Maxwell a grin.<p>

His dark-haired companion nodded, the returned smile dying quickly on his lips, though he didn't look away from Alex.

The shaven-headed youth gave a laugh as he drew a clean, white cloth from his belt and putting it close enough to hide, but not touch, his mouth. "This'll do the job, and not a trace of evidence left behind."

Again, Maxwell nodded. As the two came to the prince's chambers, Maxwell stopped and turned on his heal to shield his fellow knight with his taller frame as he shot a piercing glare into the deserted hall around them as though he were investigating a noise. Alex opened the doors and slipped inside, giving Maxwell the cue to move on before anybody noticed once the doors closed as quietly and as quickly possible.

* * *

><p>Morgana exchanged the briefest of glances with Maggie as soon as the doors to Arthur's chambers opened. She waited seconds, just as the other criminal was turning away to continue 'patrolling', and then made to move.<p>

* * *

><p>Maxwell stiffened as a woman's cheerful humming reached his ears before he was even four paces down the hall, turning to see a plain but pretty woman carrying a basket of laundry round the corner. She spotted him as she looked up from capturing a sock that was about to fall, starting with a gasp as the entire hamper fell from her hands and onto the floor. Maxwell winced at the noise as it clattered on the stones.<p>

"Good Heavens, I didn't see you there!" She cried, somewhere between good-natured and exasperated, as dainty hand reached up to touch her chest.

Maxwell offered her as charming a smile as he could muster, briskly stepping towards her to help. "It was my mistake, my lady. Allow me to help you." He quickly bent down next to her as she kneeled, already quickly working to clean the mess herself.

He reached for a garment that looked like a shift with one hand and a plain brown dress with the other—

"AAAH!" He gave a short, loud yell as a large, gleaming knife pierced his hand, making him drop the white shift in his grasp.

Suddenly, something hard and cold struck him in the back of the head and the world turned black, the last thing he heard being a woman screaming for the guards as there was a loud, harsh crash somewhere behind him.

* * *

><p>Morgana waited until she'd head the accomplice screaming as Gwen burst from where she hid within Maggie's chambers and screamed over his yell for the guards with a pot held over her shoulder like a sword. She heard the collision of the pot being bashed over the man's head as she ran full speed for Arthur's chambers, sword drawn and waving wildly.<p>

The first thing she saw was the man about to kill Galahad only paces from the door, with a dagger—puny when compared to Maggie's—in his hand and murder in his eyes, but where he froze upon her loud, sudden entrance, Morgana didn't even slow her pace. Her blade was between his ribs as they both crashed to the floor upon impact, the force knocking his weapon out of his hand and across the floor.

Minutes passed that stretched into eternities to her before she heard thundering footsteps as the guards arrived, watching in stunned silence as the life drained from the murderer's eyes.

* * *

><p>Galahad's terrified wails resided to sniffles and hiccups as Morgana rocked him, humming a lullaby her father used to sing to her. Only for the doors to her chambers burst open, frightening him into screaming sobs once more at the noise. Morgana turned on her heel to shoot a glare at the intruder, surprised when she and Galahad are both enfolded into a breathless Arthur's crushing hug before he even comes to a full stop in his stride. He actually lifted her feet off of the floor for a few moments.<p>

"Arthur…?" Morgana's eyes were wide with alarm and her voice somewhat choked by the tightness of the hug.

"Thank you…" The prince quickly sets her back on her feet, shocking her when she sees the tears streaming freely down his cheeks. "I…thank you."

Morgana feels her heart stop briefly as he presses a warm, lingering kiss on her cheek before Galahad is taken out of her arms. "What—I…What?"

"Shhh," Arthur crooned to his red-faced son as he flailed in his arms. "Everything's alright, Gal. Daddy's here. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you again, shhh." He looked to Morgana to explain as he saw the shocked look still upon her face, his own visage darkening. "The guards told Father and I everything the second we came through the gate. He's furious that someone attacked you."

Morgana rolled her eyes at that. "Of course he ignores who the real victim was. Did you check on Maggie already?"

Arthur nodded, still stone-faced. "She's fine. When I get my hands on the man," Here, he smiled viscously. "He'll know what it means to attack the son of the Prince of Camelot and his nanny."

Morgana only nodded, mouth a tight line. "Yes, I'm sure."

Arthur rested the hand that did not hold his son on her shoulder. "I'm proud of the both of you. You showed just as much bravery as any knight, and I can't thank you enough for it." Surprisingly, he turned to Guinevere next, bowing as well as he was able. "And thank you, Guinevere, for coming to their aid. You are truly one of Camelot's finest."

Morgana and Gwen exchanged floored looks before Gwen mustered enough decorum for a curtsey, cheeks blazing. "I…am truly grateful for your praise, my lord."

"Arthur," Morgana called, gartering his attention. "I cleaned your sword and put it back in its place."

The prince grinned brightly, dazzlingly, and Morgana felt her cheeks warm. "Thanks…I'm just lucky you were putting Galahad down when the attack happened."

This time, Morgana's smile was warm and soft. "As am I."

"Mama…Mama…" Galahad wriggled in his father's hold and reached for her, still hiccupping.

"Did…" Arthur's eyes went wide as he looked down at his son, then up at her, and back again. "Did he just call you—He just called you Mama!"

Morgana threw her head back and laughed at the shock-mixed-disgust on his face as Arthur's jaw dropped.

* * *

><p>Morgana was not shocked when she found Maggie, Gwen, and herself being escorted to the throne room with Arthur by a couple of guards some time later, Arthur constantly shooting suspicious looks at the men and keeping one hand on the hilt of the sword at his belt, the other holding Galahad's hand as he walked between his father and Morgana.<p>

They all stopped a respectful distance from Uther as he slouched leisurely in his throne and curtseyed, Arthur bowing. Uther stood and proceeded down the steps to stand closer, eying them all as he walked up and down the row of them with his hands behind his back.

"I would like to hear, in your own words, the incidents that transpired outside and inside Prince Arthur's chambers this evening." The king began, curt and straight to the point. "Maidens, we will begin with you."

Gwen and Margret exchanged looks before stepping forward and once more curtseying to the king. "Sire,"

It was Maggie who began. "I was returning to my chambers with the laundry just before dusk, my lord. I had rounded the corner when a man suddenly rushed me, forcing me to spill the basket. I always carry a dagger on my person in case of such situations, so pulled it and stabbed the hand he was using to hold me by my waist. He screamed and pulled away, and Gwen ran from within my room—"

"And what was Morgana's maidservant doing in _your _room?"

"I had asked her to watch my daughter while I retrieved the wash, my lord. She and Morgana had been with me while I watched her and the prince's son this afternoon, and Morgana had gone next door to put him to bed for the evening."

Uther nodded after a moment of consideration. "Continue,"

"As Gwen was emerging with the small pot we had used to play with the children earlier, another man had run past us and burst into Prince Arthur's chambers, but she was already running towards us. She knocked him unconscious with the pot as the Lady Morgana gave a start, dropped the pot, and ran for the guards while I rushed in to help the lady. Lady Morgana was wrestling with a man when I came in. She kicked him in the groin as I grabbed the sword the prince had laid on his table near the entrance, and I tossed it to her. She kicked the man in the head as he tried to grab her and pull her down while I ran to the prince's son as he screamed. Before I knew it, Morgana had stabbed him in the chest with the prince's sword and the guards had come."

One by one, they all gave the same story, tailored to their own viewpoint so it would coincide with the other's and whatever the guards may have accounted.

When Morgana finished, Uther raised a hand for silence. "I have heard enough. You may go. Arthur, stay. We have much to discuss."

Arthur nodded to his father before looking to Morgana as he released Galahad's hand. Morgana gave him an understanding look before hoisting Galahad into her arms and leaving with the others, without their escorts.

Once alone, Arthur turned to the king, who had returned to his throne. "Father, about the prisoner…"

Uther, however, held up a hand to silence him, as he had done with the others. "You are more than welcome to attend the private execution that is to be conducted in the interrogation chambers beneath the castle at dawn, Arthur. The men's families will be accommodated accordingly as well."

His son blinked. "You have…arranged everything, already?"

"I assume you wish to pass your own judgment on the man?" Uther asked, raising an eyebrow after a considerate pause. The prince bowed his head, silently asking for permission in response. The king sighed. "Very well, I suppose I will allow it."

Arthur straightened back up and squared his shoulders. "Thank you, Father."

"What would you have done to the man?"

"While I do not disagree with your established ruling, Sire…I would like to interrogate him personally beforehand."

Uther tilted his head, his frown deepening. "What purpose would that serve? You have heard the accounts of the crime from both the witnesses and the averters. All that is left to be done is to sentence the last remaining criminal responsible for the deed."

"I would like to know the reasoning for his actions, Father." Arthur stated, with his voice perfectly controlled as he schooled his features to a mask of calm and collectedness.

Uther actually _smirked_ as he uttered something between a sigh and a laugh. "Arthur, I think it is rather obvious that the majority of the nobles hold a great dislike for…the boy."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty," The prince interjected. "As do you, but that does not mean you would plot his murder. Both of these men were promising, recently-accepted knights. It makes no sense for them to throw such promising, noble positions away, and especially not for such shallow reasons—"

"That is enough, Arthur!" The king barked as his eyes narrowed. It seemed his son was indeed becoming wise—a great attribute to his kingship one day, but a greatly annoying inconvenience for him, right at the moment. "It is simple; in some cases, there is no rhyme or reason to a crime, no logic, and this is one of these exceptions. I deny your request."

The prince's mouth shut with an audible clack. For a long moment, silence engulfed them. Then, Arthur gave a swift, waist-deep bow. "Forgive me…my lord. I suppose these types of decisions are better left…to the more experienced… Forgive me."

"You are forgiven." Uther pardoned, wearily pressing his fingers to his temple to fight off a growing headache. "Shall we move onto another matter, then?"

"I…" Arthur swallowed to wet his suddenly-parched throat as his tongue poked through his lips to wet them. "Perhaps it would be best to discuss the issue now concerning security, my lord. The treachery of these men brings into question the loyalty and trustworthiness of all but the highest regarded and best known of our knights."

Uther's brow furrowed at those words. "What do you mean?"

"My son's was not the only life at risk tonight, Father." Arthur informed him calmly. "But those of his nanny, her own young daughter, Morgana's, Guinevere's, and quite possibly mine, if I had been here. Measures must be taken to prevent such risks in the future."

"Yes, I agree." The king frowned deeply. True, he had never calculated the plan going so awry, but there was nothing he could do about that now. "Might you have any suggestions, my son?"

Arthur nodded before taking a pause. "If you would allow it, my lord, I would like to assemble a very small group of men from the well-established knights to make them my and my son's personal guard. These would be men that I know I can willingly trust both of our lives to, and it would greatly heighten the security of Camelot's future."

"I see…" Uther leaned back in his throne, steepling his fingers together in front of his face as he considered this. "And I take it that you understand that the payment for this guard would have to come from your own pocket, correct?"

Arthur blinked, taken aback. "But…my lord…I make no money."

"This is your suggestion, Arthur. Surely you must realize that you would be taking these men away from the ranks of true knights to serve your own personal purposes." Uther interrupted coolly.

"They would be protecting me, your son and heir. Is that not a great service for Camelot that is worthy enough of proper reward from you, Sire?"

Uther felt the beginnings of true anger bubbling in his chest. Arthur had, yet again, made a completely valid point, one he definitely could not refute, still…

"You do not seem to be understanding, Arthur. Allow me to elaborate." Slowly, Uther lurched forward in his throne, his eyes and tone chillingly-cold. "While these men, would, by extension, be ensuring _your _safety, it is not for yourself that you wish these men to guard your chambers. You wish to protect your son, the peasant woman you house in my castle, and now the daughter that woman has borne as well. To guard four people alone is a considerable sum, but three persons, as well as the Prince of Camelot, by five-fold…I would be forced to raise the taxes to pay such fees on a regular basis."

Arthur's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. He had not considered that. Until now, he'd been paying Maggie on what he'd been able to earn as a knight, which came mostly from the two tournaments he'd won—jousting and mortal combat respectively. Even with her receiving no more than a normal servant for her regular salary—and the decent bonus he had given her for her medical leave when Sarah had been born—such fees for even that small a guard would surely bankrupt him personally, and he would have hard time making more money at all, now that he was not a knight himself…

_I…suppose I could ask Morgana for a loan, or perhaps a more reliable solution. _He thought to himself.

"I understand, Sire…" He finally answered, realizing belatedly that he had said nothing in reply.

"You do?" His father's eyebrows arched softly, and Arthur nodded in reply. "Very well," He acquiesced after a moment. "Is there anything else needing to be discussed concerning this matter?"

"I think not, my lord, but if there is, perhaps it is better left for morning. Much has happened and I am sure we are all tired." Inclining his head in a nod of respect, Arthur continued. "I will assuredly be present for the execution, Sire."

Uther nodded once more. "Good. Then, you are free to go, Arthur."

Giving one final bow, the prince turned on his heel and proceeded from the throne room. He had much to do, and little time with which to get it done.


End file.
